Page 53 of Wanted

He peers down at my hand on his arm before looking up slowly at me. “I have pack business to tend to.”

“Oh,” I say, loosening my grip. I don’t know why my shoulders deflate in disappointment. I’m not a part of his pack. What he does shouldn’t be of concern to me.

“I’m also looking into some leads to help us find out about the wolves who attacked you,” he reassures me.

I almost forgot all about that injured wolf he brought back from Florida.

“I should go with—” His large hand on my shoulder stops me as I try to stand.

“Eat.”

The one word isn’t harsh or forceful. Yet, it’s powerful enough that it has me backside slipping back into my chair.

“I’ll come back for you soon.”

I watch as he goes over to Ms. Elsie, who’s among a number of other pack members, fixing a hefty-looking plate. He says something low in her ear.

“Take care of her…”

I blink and then blink again.

That’s not right. I swore I could’ve heard what he said, although he’s halfway across the room.

I’ve always had great hearing, but not that good. It must be wishful thinking on my part.

But then I catch a glimpse of Chance watching me right before he exits the kitchen. His eyes speak of regret. Or something that looks like sadness.

Why is he sad?

CHAPTER 15

Chance

Go back!

Mate!

“Shut up,” I mutter at my damn wolf. He’s been whining ever since I left Emery in that kitchen. I shouldn’t have taken that last look at her after telling Ms. Elsie to watch over her.

Hell, I shouldn’t have said anything to Ms. Elsie about watching over her. I know it’ll only fuel her wild notion that Emery is somehow my mate. That can’t be the case, since I’m not destined to have a mate.

We’re not even sure Emery is a shifter. While it’s true that a shifter can mate with a non-shifter, like my brother and his human mate, it’s rare.

I shake my head loose of the thought as I enter one of the caves on the far outer edges of our commune, where I’ve kept the son of a bitch wolf who sought to harm Emery.

While my brother prefers to use the secret basement of one of the homes in the commune for situations such as this, I prefer the outdoors.

In this cave, no one can hear screams for miles around.

On the way to the cave, I receive a text message from Dr. Drake asking for more time to run some specialized tests on the blood samples he took from Emery.

“You’re back,” Mike, one of the second betas my brother has watching over our smaller communes replies. He’s come to New Mexico for a few days for a construction job. I’ve had him also watching over this piece of shit until I got back to him.

“He hasn’t talked.”

A grunt of acknowledgment spills from me. I didn’t expect him to.

I peer down at the man, naked, curled into a ball in the center of the stone floor. He shifted out of his wolf by the time we left Florida. He’s been chained to the wall of this cave since we brought him here. The elements of being outdoors, his injuries and the silver chains around his wrists have taken their toll.

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